


The Single Figure To Me

by Spitfire007



Series: The Many Adventures [1]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: M/M, Requests, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8370262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spitfire007/pseuds/Spitfire007
Summary: Not long into their partnership, Billy gets sick. They take shelter in a cave during the night but the next morning, Goodnight finds that Billy is not doing well at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was a mix of two fic requests that I received.

“So I told him, well I’ve never seen a face as ugly as yours,” Goodnight finishes the joke as he stares up at the tall mountains surrounding them.

“Always a charmer,” Billy comments quietly behind him. He’s been quiet much of the ride today but that is something Goodnight is learning is completely normal. But honestly, Goodnight was just glad that Billy was in a happier mood now. Yesterday had nearly proved too much for their newly formed partnership.

Then again, Billy had been joking with him then as well.

_ “I’m beginning to think that God disapproves of our partnership,” Goodnight called over the thunder and lightning ripping open the sky above them. He had lost count of how many hours the rain had been pouring down on them. They had been looking for shelter the entire time but this land was proving to be impossibly flat. _

_ “Or maybe he only disapproves of you,” Billy managed through chattering teeth. Goodnight turned to look at him. Billy was soaked, his dark hair plastered to his forehead and his clothing clamored tightly to his skin. He looked miserable. _

_ “I wish you would have told me you were quite the joker before we started riding together, Billy. I feel there is really only room for one of us to have an excellent sense of humor.” Goodnight breathed out, noticing that his breath was now steaming in the night air. The temperature must be dropping; they had to find shelter soon. _

_ “Well, if I find someone like that, I’ll be sure to let you know.” Billy tried to smile but he was impossibly cold, his words sounded like they were clattering against his teeth.  _

_ The sight caused Goodnight to pull his horse to a stop, wrapping the reins around his saddle horn. Billy stopped next to him, unsure. Goodnight pulled off his heavy woolen coat and tried to hand it to Billy who just stared at him. _

_ “My pants are the only thing that is wet. My shirt is still dry, you should wear this until we find shelter.” Goodnight explained frowning, offering it again. Billy took it, wrinkling his nose up slightly when the fabric oozed cold water. _

_ “It’s soaked through.” He said nearly shoving it back at Goodnight. _

_ Goodnight sighed taking the coat back. “I know but I thought maybe it would help block the rain a bit more.” _

_ Billy squinted up at the rain pouring down and then leveled his eyes on Goodnight. They were hard with anger. “Shelter would do that better.” _

_ “I  _ know  _ that.” _

_ “Then why did we stop in the middle of the storm?” Billy questioned. When Goodnight didn’t respond, Billy clicked his tongue and spurred his horse to start moving again. _

_ Goodnight followed his lead, trying not to take offense. He just thought it might have helped. He kept wanting to say something but Billy’s stiff back told Goodnight that he was not up for any conversation.  _

_ It was about twenty more minutes before the land finally took pity on them and they could see a cave up ahead. The conversation was still dead as they tied the horses up, made a fire with some old newspaper that had thankfully kept dry and branches that were sadly not as dry. _

_ “I didn’t mean to offend you,” Billy finally said, still shaking from the cold. _

_ “I understand. The coat was wet, there was really no sense in giving it to you.” Goodnight replied, the offending coat was laying on the floor next to the fire, trying to dry out. _

_ Goodnight thought that Billy shrugged but he couldn’t really tell by how much he was shaking. “We should heat up some water for you to drink.” _

_ “I can take care of myself,” Billy’s voice was even but his eyes flashed not to push him. Goodnight backed off, confused as to how Billy could be so goddamn offended over a wet coat. _

_ The storm outside seemed to echo Billy’s emotions because it was steadily raging. Goodnight tried to ignore it, as he took off his boots and poured the water out of them. Once he felt like he had removed enough layers that were full of water, he leaned back against the cave wall to close his eyes. _

_ When he opened his eyes again, he thought that it has only been for a few seconds but the fire was nearly out. The storm outside had settled down to just a heavy downpour. He grabbed a few more wet branches and ripped more newspaper, hoping for a slight miracle. If the fire did go out, at least they were out of the rain. _

_ Goodnight looked over to see Billy sleeping on the other side of the fire. Goodnight could see him moving slightly so maybe he wasn’t completely asleep, but he also didn’t want to upset him again by saying or doing something stupid. Which was apparently something he had been absolutely excelling at lately. _

_ Goodnight found himself unable to sleep after that, instead watching Billy shiver throughout the night. He thought about putting his coat over him a few times but dismissed it. _

_ When Billy woke up that morning, he looked uncomfortably pale but his spirits were much brighter. So they had breakfast and rode off together in a much easier mood. _

“It’s beautiful country out here,” Goodnight comments as he looks down into the impossibly green valley below. The wild flowers have just begun dusting the landscape. The view is framed by white capped mountains jutting up toward the sun. Goodnight had spent years traveling this country and felt that this little spot may be one of the prettiest he had ever seen. Even if the night before he would have rather been anywhere else…maybe not back home in Louisiana but anywhere else besides being in a cave with a man he really respected that was angry with him for some unknown reason.

If his partner agrees about how pretty the scene is, he doesn’t say anything. But this view deserves to be more than just gazed upon. Goodnight watches the wind whip through the grass with an almost musical rhythm and finds himself smiling.

“Above all, lo, the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds. Below too, all calm, all vital and beautiful, and the farm prospers well.” The words are out of Goodnight’s mouth before he can catch them. Swallow them down to hide the trauma associated with the poem that he has memorized by heart.

He turns his head just so to see if Billy had caught the words. If he knew the rest of the poem then he might be far too aware of everything that was wrong with Goodnight Robicheaux now .

The only image Goody is greeted with is Billy’s entire body going limp in his saddle before he slams into the dewy green grass with a disheartening thud.

“Shit!” Goodnight yelps, nearly spooking his horse with how fast he clamors off of her. “Billy!?”

Billy’s eyes are completely rolled back in his head when Goodnight finally gets to him. His hands cradling his head as if Billy would break if he applied too much pressure. “Billy, what’s wrong?”

Goodnight’s voice is too soft he thinks because Billy doesn’t respond, only lays there deadly still.

The sight causes Goodnight to hear rustling somewhere in the trees around them. Like talons wrapping themselves around a branch. Goodnight tries to take a breath to steady himself but it only comes out as shaky as his voice is when he  says _“Billy_ , please.”

Billy, as usual, doesn’t take pity on him and stays motionless. Goody swears he sees blood beginning to drip out of Billy's mouth, but it disappears once he blinks. Now is not the time, he practically screams into the depths of his mind. He is up and moving right as he starts hearing the far off sounds of battle.

“Don’t worry, Billy. That town was suppose to be about half a day’s ride from here. I can get us there as fast as her legs can take us.” Goodnight says moving the essential items from Billy’s saddlebags before unhooking the saddle and letting it fall to the ground. He pulls off the bridle and lays it on top of the now discarded saddle. With one more lookover, he smacks the horse’s ass and watches it run down into the green valley. She would be fine for a few days out there if they came back and if she was gone, well what a wonderful place to live out the rest of her life.

Goodnight turns to Billy, huffing loudly as he gets his solid frame on Goody’s horse. He leans Billy’s warm body against the neck of his horse, hoping that he doesn’t fall off while Goodnight gets on. Slowly, making sure to keep Billy as secure as possible, Goodnight positions himself in the saddle. He tilts Billy’s body back, wrapping a protective arm around him as he turns his horse away from the breathtaking view.

“Alright, Billy, just ….stay with me.” Goodnight whispers, his arm squeezing just a bit tighter around Billy’s waist as his head falls back onto Goody’s shoulder. He tries not to think about how warm Billy’s body is and how firm his abs feel through his shirt. Goodnight can still hear the sounds of battle but they are farther away now. He spurs his horse with such force that he feels a twang of guilt but he’s planning on making sure that he gets Billy to that town as fast as possible.

Much to his horse’s credit, bless her for her stamina and resilience, Goodnight arrives in the town in record time. He doesn’t slow down once he has reached the edge of town either. Instead, he stops the horse, right outside of the doctor’s office.  The sign like a beacon the second his eyes laid on it.

The commotion Goodnight’s caused by racing down the middle of town, causes several people to come out of their stores, including the doctor. He’s an older man, with a white beard and mustache.

“I need your help, my friend here is sick,” Goodnight explains the moment he sees him.

The doctor looks at him for a few minutes but nods when he sees Billy’s limp form. “Alright, bring him in.”

Goodnight moves quickly, getting out of the saddle with a hand on Billy’s hip to keep him from falling. He pulls Billy out of the saddle as carefully as possible, noticing that Billy is now sweltering to the touch. He does his best to carry Billy into the doctor’s office. He never really thought about how much the man would actually weigh. He must be solid muscle.

“So tell me what happened?” The doctor says as he begins examining Billy, who is now laying on a small bed.

“We were out riding and he just fell off his horse, completely unconscious. I rode here as fast as I could.” Goodnight explains, his hands wringing together with concern. He knows he’s hovering, staring down at Billy’s pale face.

“Did he complain of any ailment?” The doctor asks, checking Billy’s eyes, feeling the temperature of Billy’s sweaty forehead.

“No, he didn’t say anything. I just...he was fine one minute and then on the ground the next.” Goodnight tries to keep the panic out of his voice.

“He does have a bit of a temperature but doesn’t really seem to be in any sort of pain.” The doctor says. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Goodnight is silent for a moment before slamming a hand into his forehead. “Goddammit, yes, we went through a bad storm last night.”

He can’t believe that wasn’t the first thing that popped in his head, he’d been thinking about it all morning. What was with him lately? It seemed if he was staring at Billy, his mind didn’t want to work like it usually did. He had no idea what it was about Billy that was doing it. Maybe it wasn’t Billy, maybe it was another leftover from the war. 

The doctor seems slightly shocked at Goodnight’s outburst but nods and starts unbuttoning Billy’s shirt. Before Goodnight can object or ask. The doctor interrupts his thoughts. “It’s exposure from the rain. He needs to get out of these clothes and then we are going to pile those blankets on him.”

Goodnight nods. _Of course, that makes sense._ He thinks. He can’t seem to think straight right now as the doctor peels Billy’s shirt off of him. He tries not to stare at Billy’s body as he helps pull his boots off.  

They get him stripped and Goodnight throws the first blanket on him quickly, trying his best to protect Billy’s modesty. He had hardly seen the man with his shirt off so he knew it was important to him.

Once several blankets have been piled, the doctor puts his hand out. “Dr. Gregory.”

“I apologize profusely for my rudeness, Dr. Gregory. My concern outweighed my manners. Goodnight Robicheaux. My friend here is Billy Rocks.”

“Well, I have good news for you, Mr. Robicheaux. He is going to be just fine. He will need to stay warm and drink fluids, something warm and sweet works best.  It may take him a day or two to get back to full health but he will be alright. His body just needs to sleep for a while.”

“Thank you, sir. I truly appreciate it. How much do I owe you?” Goodnight asks, thinking about how much money he has left.

“Don’t worry about it, sir. I’m just happy to not be treating a bullet wound or someone’s fingers getting hacked off. This was easy. Stay here until he’s better, you can move that curtain to give yourselves more privacy.” Dr. Gregory smiles, shaking Goodnight’s hand again before he leaves. Goodnight pulls the curtain around Billy’s bed and takes a seat in the chair next to it. He waits for Billy to wake up. 

*~*~*~*

After two hours, Goodnight goes over to the general store and buys a few pieces of sugary candy. Once he gets back to the doctor’s office, he crushes a piece up as much as he can before sprinkling the dust in the glass of water next to Billy’s bed. He hesitates with the glass in his hand, worried that Billy will pick this exact moment to wake up and then demand that he knows how to drink a glass of water. 

Billy doesn’t do anything of the sort. Instead he lies still, wrapped up tightly in blankets. Goodnight sits down on the edge of the bed, staring down at him. He’s been here before. Watching far too many friends on hospital beds. Most of them died and it was never as quiet as this. Usually there was at least three people screaming in absolute agony. There was usually a lot more blood as well. 

It was unsettling how quiet it was. Goodnight lifts up the back of Billy’s head and presses the glass to his lips. The motion is a little too familiar, a little too intimate making Goodnight’s hands attempt to tremor. He focuses on his breathing and just let’s his mind focus on keeping his hands steady so he doesn’t spill the water all over Billy. It goes impossibly slow but Goodnight gets Billy to drink nearly half the glass before he pulls back completely. 

He sits the glass on the night stand but doesn’t move. His hands still aren’t steady so he places them over his tired eyes, pressing the palms into the sockets tightly. He isn’t sure how long he sits like this, trying to breathe through the attack with his elbows digging into the top of his knees. 

_ “You should go,” Marc breathes, his chest rattling with every breath. Goodnight wipes the small droplets of blood from his lips. His handkerchief had been a nice grey, but now it was a burnt red.  _

_ “I’m not leaving you to die alone.” Goodnight barely recognizes his voice. It’s too raw and broken.  _

_ Marc closes his eyes, wincing from the pain and from what Goody can only imagine is the feeling of slowly drowning in your own blood. The doctor’s had said it was only a matter of time, blood was draining into his lungs and there was nothing they could do. He was going to die.  _

_ “You are so hard-headed. Give me a little dignity and leave!” Marc tries to yell, but instead, blood goes everywhere and he hadn’t stop coughing. He can’t catch his breath. This was it. This was -- _

“Goody,” Billy’s voice pulls Goodnight out of his mind. 

He turns quickly, looking at Billy’s face which now has some color to it. The only emotion that Goodnight can read is exhaustion though. 

“You gave me quite a fright.” Goodnight breathes and finds himself touching Billy’s face. His eyes widen a bit when he realizes and makes as if he is checking to see how hot he is to the touch. 

If Billy objects, he doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry about the coat.” 

“Oh, no, that’s perfectly fine. It was pointless, like you said.” Goodnight tries not to think about how close they are. How his hand is still warm from Billy’s skin. He runs his thumb over that palm with a heavy sigh. 

Billy opens his mouth to say something, but then he grabs the blankets and lifts them up. His eyes slice over to Goodnight’s face for explanation. 

“Doctor’s orders,” is all Goodnight can manage trying not to blush. 

Billy only shakes his head, bringing a hand up to rub at the bridge of his nose. “You were only trying to look out for me. I apologize for being so upset about….everything. In my past….”

“I’ve never seen you at a loss for words,” Goodnight jokes softly, trying to ease the tension in the room. 

“In my past, I have had to rely on the kindness of others. I don’t want that anymore.” Billy finally says, still not looking at Goodnight. 

“I understand but ...I didn’t try to help you out of kindness.” 

Billy frowns, turning to look at Goodnight, confused by his statement. 

“If you aren’t around, there isn’t much of a partnership, now is there? So it isn’t so much kindness as ...necessity. I need you around, and for some reason, looks like you need me around as well.”  

Billy nods, the edges of his mouth tilting up in a bit of a smile. “I think we need to work on our communication.” 

“Was that a snide remark about how much I talk?” Goodnight teases. 

“I was meaning that I needed to talk more but…” Billy trails off. Goodnight gets off the edge of the bed to stand up awkwardly. 

“Are you hungry? I can go get us some food.” Goodnight suggests. 

Billy nods. “Maybe I can come with you?” 

“Dr. Reynolds, the man who helped me undress you,” Goodnight’s blush comes back with a fever now. Why the hell did he use that to describe who Dr. Reynolds was? “He said you should stay in bed for a few days.”

“That’s not going to happen.” Billy grumbles, running a hand through his hair. “Can I at least get my clothes back?” 

“Yes,” Goodnight nods quickly, grabbing Billy’s clothes from where he had folded them when he got too bored and his hands needed something to do. Placing them on Billy’s bed, Goodnight nods. “I’ll get us some food and then be back.” 

Goodnight doesn’t wait for an answer. He leaves Billy to his privacy and heads over to the small hotel to inquire about food. He waits around for a while before ordering food to make sure he gives Billy enough time to get dressed. Once he has the two plates of food, Goodnight walks back over to the doctor’s office. 

Billy is sitting up in the chair that Goodnight had been sitting in, completely dressed. The glass of sugary water is gone now. It has been replaced by two glasses full of what looks like liquor. 

“Biscuits and venison tonight.” Goodnight announces, placing the plate on Billy’s lap before dragging another chair over to him. He takes a drink of the glass and confirms that it is whiskey. He doesn’t comment on it, only eats and drinks in comfortable peace. 

“The doctor came by while you were gone. He was surprised to see me instead of you. Said you charged into town like a madman.” Billy says after they have finished eating. 

Goodnight pulls out his cigarette case and takes one. He lights it with Billy’s eyes on him the entire time. “Well, you were unconscious.” 

“He said we both rode in on the same horse.” 

Goodnight takes a long drag. “Your horse is slower than mine.” 

“Where is she?” 

“In that pretty valley we passed.” Goodnight exhales, realizing that the smoke was burning in his lungs from being held in so long. 

“I don’t really remember it, everything was blurry around that time.” Billy reaches out to take the cigarette from Goodnight. 

“Billy, you should have said something,” Goodnight breathes. Billy’s name in his mouth seems to want to cling to his tongue as their fingers brush against each other for the cigarette exchange.

“I thought it would go away with time.” Billy sighs, smoke billowing around his face. 

“Well, let me know next time and I will tell you when I am feeling uneasy as well.” Goodnight offers, watching Billy finish off the cigarette. 

Billy looks up from staring into the air and nods. 

"Deal." Goodnight smirks, pulling out the cigarette case again for another. He couldn’t quite nail down why he was so excited for the future of their partnership. Maybe it just felt a bit brighter now.

**Author's Note:**

> The title and poem that Goodnight quotes comes from Walt Whitman's [Come Up from the Fields Father.](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/51785)


End file.
